Chapter Text
Oikawa knows that he’s charming, well-liked, and pretty to boot. He has many admirers, even a few stalkers, so he isn’t surprised when he gets a confession letter in the mail. It’s a little weird to get it through a mailbox and not his locker or in person, which means the person confessing knows where he lives, but he brushes the creepiness aside to focus on reading the letter. He had arrived hom earlier after practice and his mother had handed it to him, and he had taken it upstairs to open it in the privacy of his room.
Good thing he did, because he immediately skips down to look at the name at the bottom, and his soul almost leaves his body. He might be dead and this is hell, because signed at the bottom, in lackluster third grader level handwriting is the name Ushijima Wakatoshi .
Oikawa feels his hands shaking as he stares down at the letter. The words don’t disappear, and sure enough, as he reads it he affirms the letter is a love confession and not some weird ransom note. He’s so zoned out that he doesn’t hear Iwaizumi knocking.
“Hey, dumbass, I’ve been knocking for five whole minutes!! Hey, are you even listening to me?” Iwa growls, his head poking through the doorway. Oikawa jumps up, holding the letter behind his back as Iwa decides it’s safe for him to come in.
“What are you doing?” Iwa eyes him suspiciously.
“Just reading another confession letter from one of my adoring fans!” Oikawa flashes a fake smile to hide the fact that inside he’s definitely having a meltdown. Iwa must buy it, because he sits down at Oikawa’s desk and unzips his bag.
“Oh yeah? Well, you’re not the only one who got a letter, pretty boy. Mikasa from class 3-B gave this to me after you ditched my ass after class.” Iwa holds up a pink envelope with a heart sticker to keep it sealed, waving it around like a mad man.
It makes Oikawa’s heart leap. Weird confession aside, Oikawa has had an unrequited crush on Iwaizumi since the moment they met. Which has literally been their entire lives. Despite Iwa’s uncanny ability to see through Oikawa’s bullshit, he has yet to sniff out the fact that Oikawa feels anything other than friendship with him. And that’s probably the way it will stay forever, unfortunately.
“I told her we could go out next Monday since we don’t have practice…” Iwa’s voice fades out as Oikawa feels his heart start to beat erratically. It’s definitely not because of anything Iwa is saying, he tells himself.
He thinks back on the letter. Ushijima is his enemy. His rival. And apparently, his fan. It all threatens to make Oikawa throw up, but in the back of his mind there’s a voice that’s pushing him to think about the impossible: accepting the confession. Would that make Iwa jealous? Or would he even notice? Is it even worth a shot?
“I’m going on a date too!” He blurts out, interrupting Iwa.
“With who?”
“Um, someone from another school. I’ll tell you his name if it works out…” Oikawa teases, trying to reinforce a little bit of his attitude back into his voice. Iwa shrugs.
“Okay. Just be safe, OK? Some of your admirers are a little weird.”
“It’s fine! I know him, kind of.”
“From volleyball?” Iwa asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, you could say that…”
☆☆☆
Oikawa has never been more nervous in his whole life. Sure, he’s had his bouts of anxiety, but nothing compares to agreeing to going on a date with your second-to-least favorite person. Kageyama holds the number one spot and a gun to his head couldn’t persuade him to ever go on a date with that brat.
He’s standing outside of the Shiratorizawa, on the path that Ushijima usually runs, waiting for him to run by. The stupid letter didn’t have a phone number or any other form of contact information, so here Oikawa is sacrificing even more of his pride, waiting around like a shojou girl at a bus stop. He groans internally.
“Oikawa?” A deep voice rumbles from about five feet away. Great. Oikawa was kind of hoping he’d never show.
“Hey, volleyball for brains,” He quips, watching Ushijima walk up in his practice clothes. He has sweat running down his neck, and his ever intense eyes are staring Oikawa down with a hint of confusion.
“What are you doing here, Oikawa?” He asks, keeping his distance warily.
Oikawa scoffs.
“Obviously I’m here to see you about that lovely letter you wrote me.” He wrinkles his nose as he admits it, feeling the wave of nausea for what he’s about to say coming on.
“It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to accept anywa-”
“I accept your confession, Ushiwaka.”
“Wait, really??” Oikawa has never seen Ushijima’s face light up so much before, but the other boy is basically beaming at him, like he’s just won nationals.
“Yes, really. Do you want my phone number or not?” Ushijima bobs his head like an excited puppy, and pulls his phone out to hand it to Oikawa. Oikawa types his phone number in and puts his name with a ridiculous amount of emojis in. Ushijima doesn’t comment as he accepts his phone back.
“So, I should coordinate plans so that we can go out on a date soon?” Ushijima asks, looking at Oikawa hopefully. He rolls his eyes.
“Yes, I suppose. You better make it the best date of my life though.”
☆☆☆
Oikawa waits patiently as Ushijima pays for the tickets at the front. The idiot actually managed to pick something that Tooru doesn’t completely despise, plus there’s barely a crowd at 4pm on a Monday. Ushijima returns and they walk through the entrance to the lowlit hallways of the aquarium, blue light reflecting on the floors.
Okay, it isn’t actually that bad. Ushijima is quiet most of the time and lets Tooru do most of the talking, which he can do for hours.
“Haha,” He snorts, pointing. “That’s you.” He points to a cowfish, giggling. What he doesn’t expect is Ushijima to try to purse his lips and make a face, causing Tooru to burst out in a real laugh. Ushijima gives him a small smile.
Ew. No. He has to remember that this is just to make Iwa jealous and he is not going to enjoy himself. Even if Ushijima is kind of funny, in a deadpan way.
They walk through the shark tunnel, watch the jellyfish as they change colors, and even pet the stingrays. One bites Tooru and Ushijima pulls his hand to his lips, ‘kissing it better’. Tooru’s entire face turns red, but he relents, because it is a date and he’s allowed to have fun. They do that stupid photo booth and Oikawa makes the dumbest faces he can manage while Ushijima gives his signature straight face to the camera. That makes Oikawa laugh even more. He sticks it in his wallet, promising himself to burn it later.
As they walk back to Ushijima’s campus from the bus stop, Ushijima casually brushes his hand against Oikawa.
No. Absolutely not. This is not happening.
Except it is, and Ushijima slips his big fingers in between Oikawa’s slender ones and gives his hand a squeeze. Fuck. Ushiwaka is incredibly more smooth than he’d given him credit. If anything, this is probably one of the best dates Oikawa has been on, and that’s saying something.
They finally arrive, and Ushijima pulls him closer as they slow to a stop. Oikawa can only look up as Ushijima fixes him with an incredibly passionate stare down. Okay, he’s going to try and kiss me. I won’t let him!
Instead, Ushijima leans back and lifts up a hand to push his bangs back.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” He asks, watching Oikawa.
“No, it’s fine. It’s a little cold, but I’ll manage,” Oikawa brushes him off, rubbing his sweater absentmindedly.
“Wait here, if you don’t mind.” Ushijima turns and walks into the dorm, and walks back out moments later with a jacket in his hand.
Holy shit, it’s a Shiratorizawa jacket. With Ushijima’s name and number on it. He wants to scream.
Instead of throwing it on the ground and stomping on it, Oikawa takes it and puts it on. It smells faintly like pine. Maybe it’s the cologne he uses. It’s warm against his body, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it.
“I look forward to seeing you again, Oikawa. I can’t wait to tell my teammates about my boyfriend.” Oikawa chokes.
“Yeah...O-of course,” He manages to get out. “But next time I pick the time and place, okay?”
Ushijima nods compliantly.
Oikawa turns around before he can turn into a complete mess, pulling the jacket closer to him as he walks home.